Wolfing Out of the Closet
by castiels-tardis-blue-eyes
Summary: Wincest fic, after a rough werewolf case, the brothers head back to a motel to sew Sammy up and Dean accidentally spills the beans.


"One left Sammy." Dean said, carefully pushing the thread through the needle again. The last hunt had been rough, a werewolf hunt in their home town left Mr Winchester the younger in shreds and Dean with a concussion and two broken ribs, which he'd decided to soothe with alcohol rather than any conventional medicine, but he swore it works just as well so Sam didn't argue.

He pushed the needle into Sam's skin next to the five inch long incision and bridged the gap between the weeping flesh. Sam twitched a little and hissed in pain, Dean glanced up. He hated seeing his little brother so beaten up. He tied a knot in the thread, carefully tightening it onto Sam's hot skin. Dean nodded in approval for Sam to move and he sat up slightly on the bed and pulled at his tummy to see Dean's handiwork. Satisfied he tried to move to stand up but he winced in pain as his arm muscles tensed. Dean stood quickly and half jogged to Sam's shirt, lying on the bed opposite, which should've been Sam's bed but given Dean's was closer to the door, he'd lain Sam down there instead. Dean felt the fabric of Sam's shirt in his hand, soft and still warm from where he'd worn it. Sam tried to lift his arms to let Dean put his shirt on, but the skin around the stitches rippled like corduroy and pain was etched onto his face. He put his arms down slowly in defeat, relaxing his face.

"Are you warm enough?" Dean asked, looking over his brother's chest, disgusted at himself for thinking it was very attractive, with his tan skin and big muscles. Dean's mind projected himself sleeping in those arms, but he shook the thought away. _No, Dean, stop it. _He ordered himself.

Sam twitched a smile and nodded

"Yeah I'll be fine Dean, quit worrying." he replied weakly. Dean nodded then looked at the floor. It was stupid that he still held onto the weak hope that one day Sam might feel the same way.

He gave up after Sam left for Stanford, then when he saw him again afterwards with Jess. It both hurt him and saved him. He had finally seen his little brother again, but Sam's heart was somewhere else. Dean knew it was sick and twisted, the guilt was ingrained on his mind, but he'd always held onto the thought ever since they were little. With Dad out hunting all the time Dean had plenty of time with Sam, and as they grew Dean realised his sick intentions by the age of 12, when he'd stolen a bottle of alcohol from Bobby's cabinet when he was looking after them.

Dean had drunk a little and left it on the side when Bobby was picking up supplies and curious Sam had picked it up and drunk about half, not quite understanding what alcohol was. When Dean saw half was gone, he was only scared of what Bobby would say, so Dean finished the beer and hid the bottle then stumbled over to his younger brother who was lying on the sofa and lifted his head and kissed him on the lips. Sammy in his poor drunk state wouldn't have remembered that he kissed back so Dean kept it quiet. But Sam does remember, and he's thinking about it at this very second. Watching his brother look at the floor with a saddened blush on his face.

"You okay?" Sam asked cautiously, knowing what that look was about. Dean suddenly looked up, caught a little off guard and nodded.

"I'm fine." he said breaking eye contact his fists clenching. "I'm gonna have a shower." He said assuredly and tore his jackets off leaving a tight fitting black shirt underneath. Dean didn't know that Sam was watching, he'd always assumed that Sam had looked elsewhere when he was taking his clothes off but Sam was watching his imagination running wild. Dean grabbed the bottom of the black shirt and pulled it slowly over his head, revealing his well toned muscular back, slightly bruised on the right side from the werewolf attack. Unknown to his conscious mind, Sam was biting his bottom lip, pushing his jaw forward as his lip slipped through his teeth. Dean chucked the shirt onto the empty bed and walked into the bathroom, feeling eyes on him and shut the door behind him.

Sam had wondered ever since that day when he was eight if Dean would ever try to kiss him again, but the day never came and he tried to move on. Jess helped a lot with that, he did swear he loved Jess whilst dating her, but he came to realise eventually that she was just a distraction, an experimentation. She was important to him to keep him grounded, to make him feel secure, but he'd always felt like a burden on her. She was an independent woman, and he seemed to be her anchor. Keeping her tied down, a strain on what she really wanted. That's what upset Sam most about her death, besides the fact that he'd predicted it, she'd never gotten a chance to live. He had needed her when Dean was gone, and he took her life away even though she was there for him the whole time, satisfying his needy self, leaving him wondering if she'd ever gotten anything out of it.

The sound of the shower turning on startled Sam out of his painful daydream. He shut his eyes and listened intently. He guiltily smiled as he heard a wet slapping sound coming from the bathroom, too rhythmic just to be water collecting and falling onto the floor. In amongst the usual sighs and groans Dean didn't think would make through the walls, a whisper of a name was also floating through. Sam leaned forward slightly to try and make it out. _No way, you're imagining it. _He told himself as what sounded like Sam trickled into his ears. The noises, regardless of what they were saying were glorious to Sam, in a strange seductive way. Another guilty pleasure Dean didn't know about.

Sam gently moved his hand under the cover towards his belt. Feeling the cold metal against his skin he quietly undid it, then smoothly undid the button and zip. He was already so hot down there as he slipped his hand under the cotton fabric of his boxers. Through the fuzz he found his hardened length and caressed it gently as his mind illustrated a scenario for him.

Five minutes later, Dean towel dried himself off and quietly opened the bathroom door assuming his little brother would be asleep, but his ears instantly deceived him as he heard the quick movement of a duvet brushing against the mattress intertwined with short ragged breathes. Curiously Dean poked his head around the door frame to just get a glance. The duvet was rising and falling above Sam's hips, Dean looked at his brother's face. His eyes were shut and his cheeks pinkish and pleasure filled, his eyebrows creased upwards and his bottom lip sucked in so far it was no longer visible. It was hot. Very hot for Dean to look at and he couldn't help but stare. He stayed there for a long while, until Sam opened his eyes slightly, noticing a presence in the doorway watching him. Then he opened his eyes suddenly wider as he exclaimed "Dean!" He looked flustered and embarrassed, Dean couldn't control himself as he continued standing there, and just smiled. He didn't want to, and it made the situation worse. Sam's face grew confused then suddenly Dean snapped out of it, feeling exposed in just a small towel around his waist he fast walked to the free bed and got in it, still wet haired, facing away from Sam. Kicking himself that he just stood there. He should've done something, he should've moved. Now Sam's going to hate him for it, he's a freak now. _DAMN IT DEAN! _He yelled at himself inside his mind.

Sam tried to gather his thoughts, Dean had been watching him jack off to him, but he didn't know Sam was thinking about him, right?_And he'd said my name in the shower...more like breathed. _Sam thought for a moment, then listened. Dean's breathing was still light, so he wasn't asleep yet. Carefully Sam shuffled out of his bed, as quietly as he could. Not listening to the part of him that told him no. Walked almost silently over to Dean's bed, where Dean thankfully was bunched up at the other side, leaving enough space. Sam picked up the corner of the cover wincing at his stitches and slid himself in next to Dean, curling himself onto his side to face him and carefully, under the cover rested an arm on Dean's waist still hot and a little damp from the shower. Something tightened in his chest and he smiled a little at the fact that Dean hadn't kicked him out...yet. Sam's finger twitched as his brother's hand gently clasped his. Dean rolled over, still holding Sam's hand, and faced him. His eyes were lit up and a smile whispered across his full pink lips. Sam's face looked the same, his glinting puppy eyes smouldered into Dean's as he clenched his jaw.

"Son of a bitch, you kinky bastard." Dean commented looking into his brothers eyes. "This is a new low, even for us."

"One I'd like to thoroughly explore." Sam replied. Dean raised his eyebrows, he had had no idea how far Sammy's mind was in the gutter until now. Dean leaned towards his brother and touched his forehead against Sam's. Suddenly, Dean pressed his lips against Sam's. Feeling an instant weight of his mind, he was finally at peace with this war he'd been battling for the last 26 years.


End file.
